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CANDLES THAT BURN 



ALINE KILMER 




Class _JPSjiJLll 



COPYRIGHT DEPOSnV 



CANDLES THAT BURN 
ALINE KILMER 



CANDLES THAT BURN 

BY 

ALINE KILMER 




NEW XSI^ YORK 
GEORGE H. DORAN COMPANY 



Copyright, 1919, 
By George H. Doran Company 



Printed in the United States of America 



^C(.Ar)l5()79 



ki\W -(I I^M 



TO 

JOYCE 



For permission to print some of these poems I 
thank America, The Churchman, The Countryside, 
The Delineator, Good Housekeeping, Harper's 
Weekly, House and Garden, The Outlook, The Phila- 
delphia Ledger, Pictorial Review, Scribner's and the 
New York Times. 



vii] 



CONTENTS 

PAGE 

AMBITION 13 

^ THE mother's helper 14 

a didactic poem to deborah 15 

an autumn walk with deborah 16 

experience 17 

candles that burn 18 

prevision 19 

Dorothy's garden 20 

JUSTICE 21 

FOR TWO BIRTHDAYS 22 

TO ROSE AWAY 23 

FOR A PROUD BABY 24 

"you ARE MORE blessed" 25 

, TO A SICK CHILD 26 

^ ^ WIND IN THE NIGHT " 27 

^WHEN YOU HAD been DEAD " 28 

A'O ROSE 29 

^LIM MEMINISSE JUVABIT 30 

/_pAUNTED 31 

^HE WINDY NIGHT . 33 

^ SHALL NOT BE AFRAID 34 

/IN SPRING 35 

HIGH HEART 36 

CHRISTMAS 37 

THE GARDEN CHILD 38 

[ix] 



CONTENTS 



PAGE 

THE LOST FOREST 39 

COW SONG 40 

REMEMBRANCE 41 

FLOWER DANCERS 42 

MORNING-GLORIES 43 

HILL-COUNTRY 44 

COMPENSATION 45 

IN A HALL BEDROOM 47 

TO A YOUNG AVIATOR 49 

THE MASQUERADER 50 

THE MORNING SHADOW 51 

AFTER GRIEVING 52 

SPRING SORROW 53 

AGE INVADING 54 

PORTRAIT OF AN OLD LADY 55 

TO TWO LITTLE SISTERS OF THE POOR ..... 56 

MOUNTAINS 57 

TO A LADY COMPLIMENTING 59 

GREEN GRAVEL 60 

THE WHITE MOTH 62 

HONEY-WITCH 63 

TO A SILLY POOR SOUL 65 

MOONLIGHT 67 

MY MIRROR 68 



[X] 



CANDLES THAT BURN 



CANDLES THAT BURN 



' AMBITION 

Kenton and Deborah, Michael and Rose, 
These are fine children as all the world knows ; 
But into my arms in my dreams every night 
Come Peter and Christopher, Faith and Delight. 

Kenton is tropical, Rose is pure white, 
Deborah shines like a star in the night; 
Michael's round eyes are as blue as the sea, 
And nothing on earth could be dearer to me. 

But where is the baby with Faith can compare? 
What is the colour of Peterkin's hair? 
Who can make Christopher clear to my sight, 
Or show me the eyes of my daughter Delight? 

When people inquire I always just state: 
"I have four nice children and hope to have eight. 
Though the first four are pretty and certain to please, 
Who knows but the rest may be nicer than these?" 

[13] 



CANDLES THAT BURN 



THE MOTHER'S HELPER 

I love all my children far more than I thought to ; 
They do everything just the way that they ought to, 
And the ones that can talk say their prayers as they're 

taught to; 
But still every night as I sit at my sewing. 
My mind turned adrift on its own pleasures going, 
Underneath my wild thoughts is a steady prayer flowing : 

St. Brigid, please keep 

My babies asleep! 

St. Rita assists me when things are past bearing, 
St. Christopher helps me when forth I am faring. 
But the care of my children St. Brigid is sharing. 
They are wilful and happy and dear beyond measure, 
No riches could equal the worth of my treasure; 
But in spite of my love and my pride and my pleasure, 

St. Brigid, please keep 

My babies asleep! 



[14] 



A DIDACTIC POEM TO DEBORAH 



A DIDACTIC POEM TO DEBORAH 

Deborah dear, when you are old, 
Tired and grey, with palhd brow, 

Where will you put the blue and gold 
And radiant rose that tint you now? 

You are so fair, so gay, so sweet! 

How can I bear to watch you grow. 
Knowing that soon those twinlding feet 

Must go the ways all children go? 

Deborah, put the blue and gold 
And rosy beauty that is you. 

Into your heart that it may hold 

Beauty to last your whole life through. 

Then, though the world be tossed and torn, 
Greyer than ashes and as sad, 

Though fate may make your way forlorn, 
Deborah dear, you shall be glad. 



[15] 



CANDLES THAT BURN 



AN AUTUMN WALK WITH DEBORAH 

Over the limp and sallow grasses, 

Deborah, will you walk with me? 
You may gather gentians in purple masses 

And honeypods from the locust tree. 

Brown leaves cover the partridge berry. 
Holding it safe for your eager hand. 

Barberry bright and cornelian cherry 
Offering scarlet jewels stand. 

I shall dress you up as an elf-queen, twining 
Bittersweet wreaths for your golden head ; 

Your leaf-brown cloak with its orange lining 
I shall hang with garlands yellow and red. 

Let us leave this place while the sunlight lingers 
Lest the elves should covet your beauty bright. 

The gentians fall from your tired fingers 

As I carry you home through the fading light. 



[16] 



EXPERIENCE 



EXPERIENCE 

Deborah danced, when she was two, 

As buttercups and daffodils do ; 

Spirited, frail, naively bold, 

Her hair a ruffled crest of gold. 

And whenever she spoke her voice went singing 

Like water up from a fountain springing. 

But now her step is quiet and slow; 
She walks the way primroses go; 
Her hair is yellow instead of gilt. 
Her voice is losing its lovely lilt, 
And in place of her wild, delightful ways 
A quaint precision rules her days. 

For Deborah now is three, and oh. 

She knows so much that she did not know. 



[17] 



CANDLES THAT BURN 



CANDLES THAT BURN 

Candles that burn for a November birthday, 

Wreathed round with asters and with goldenrod, 

As you go upward in your radiant dying 
Carry my prayer to God. 

Tell Him she is so small and so rebellious, 
Tell Him her words are music on her lips, 

Tell Him I love her in her wayward beauty 
Down to her fingertips. 

Ask Him to keep her brave and true and lovely, 

Vivid and happy, gay as she is now, 
Ask Him to let no shadow touch her beauty, 

No sorrow mar her brow. 

All the sweet saints that came for her baptising. 
Tell them I pray them to be always near. 

Ask them to keep her little feet from stumbling, 
Her gallant heart from fear. 

Candles that burn for a November birthday, 

Wreathed round with asters and with goldenrod. 

As you go upward in your radiant dying, 
Carry my prayer to God. 

[18] 



PREVISION 



PREVISION 

I know you are too dear to stay; 

You are so exquisitely sweet: 
My lonely house will thrill some day 

To echoes of your eager feet. 

I hold your words within my heart. 

So few, so infinitely dear; 
Watching your fluttering hands I start 

At the corroding touch of fear. 

A faint, unearthly music rings 

From you to Heaven — it is not far! 

A mist about your beauty clings 
Like a thin cloud before a star. 

My heart shall keep the child I knew. 
When you are really gone from me. 

And spend its life remembering you 
As shells remember the lost sea. 



[19] 



CANDLES THAT BURN 



DOROTHY'S GARDEN 

Dear, in all jour garden I have planted yellow lilies, 
Dainty yellow lilies everywhere you go: 

They are nodding slim and stately down the paths along 
the hedges, 
Delicately stepping they curtsey in a row. 

So when you walk among them like a lily in your slim- 
ness, 

With your shining head just bending graciously. 
All the little angels that look down upon your garden 

Will wonder which is lily and which is Dorothy. 



[20] 



JUSTICE 



JUSTICE 

Michael, come in ! Stop crying at the door. 

Come in and see the evil you have done. 

Here is your sister's doll with one leg gone, 
Naked and helpless on the playroom floor. 
"Poor child ! poor child ! now he can never stand. 

With one leg less he could not even sit !" 
She mourned, but first,, with swift avenging hand, 

She smote, and I am proud of her for it. 

Michael, my sympathies are all for you. 

Your cherub mouth, your miserable eyes. 

Your grey-blue smock tear-spattered and your cries 
Shatter my heart, but "what am I to do ? 
He was her baby and the fear of bears 

Lay heavy on him so he could not sleep 
But in the crook of her dear arm, she swears. 

So, Michael, she was right and you must weep. 



[21] 



CANDLES THAT BURN 



FOR TWO BIRTHDAYS 

Whenever I light the candles for your birthday 

My memory lights two more, 
Two ghostly candles burning with your candles 

Where hers burned once before. 

Whenever I see you at your birthday table. 

Across from you I see 
A gentle ghost that sits among us laughing, 

Laughing adorably. 

She would have been the gayest at the party. 
She always was the gladdest thing on earth: 

Now she is gayer still, for she is taken 
Into celestial mirth. 

With God and all the saints and all the angels 

She shares her birthday cake. 
So let us keep your birthday candles burning 

Joyously, for her sake. 



[22] 



TO ROSE AWAY 



TO ROSE AWAY 

Little white moon of my heart 

Since you have gone away 
I miss your cry when you wake by night, 

Your smile when you wake by day. 
I am glad when the daylight fades 

For my dreams are lovely things ; 
Then in the dark you come to me 

On softly fluttering wings. 

When in the afternoon, 

Sailing the cloudless sky. 
Over the shimmering summer earth 

The pale little moon slips by, 
In the curve of her frail white bow 

Your shadowy face I see, 
And I like to think that she has you there 

Bringing you back to me. 



[23] 



CANDLES THAT BURN 



FOR A PROUD BABY 

Flower of children, if you knew 

All the things you might be proud of ! 

Curls and dimples are a few 

Charms you have a gracious crowd of. 

With your dark, delightful eyes 
You can break a heart or mend it. 

I know you are not really wise, 
But how well you can pretend it ! 

Though your wickedness and wit 
Very clever in your sight be, 

Yet you are not, I admit. 
As conceited as you might be. 



[24] 



YOU ARE MORE BLESSED 



^'YOU ARE MORE BLESSED" 

You are more blessed than other babies are: 
Your shining eyes grow brighter every day 

With radiance that reminds me of the star 
That showed where Jesus lay. 

I like to think that you are set apart, 

A flower that never sprang from earthly loam, 

A rose of Heaven that nestles in my heart 
And dreams about its home. 



[25] 



CANDLES THAT BURN 



TO A SICK CHILD 

I would make you cookies 

But you could not eat them ; 
I would bring you roses 

But you would not care. 
In your scornful beauty, 

Arrogant and patient, 
Though I'd die to please you 

You lie silent there. 

Your once wanton sister 

Creeps about on tiptoe, 
And your brother hurries 

At your slightest nod : 
Watching at your bedside 

When you sleep I tremble 
Lest before you waken 

You go back to God. 



[26] 



A WIND IN THE NIGHT 



«A WIND IN THE NIGHT" 

A wind rose in the night, 

(She had always feared it so!) 

Sorrow plucked at my heart 
And I could not help but go. 

Softly I went and stood 

By her door at the end of the hall. 
Dazed with grief I watched 

The candles flaring and tall. 

The wind was wailing aloud: 

I thought how she would have cried 

For my warm familiar arms 
And the sense of me by her side. 

The candles flickered and leapt, 
The shadows jumped on the wall. 

She lay before me small and still 
And did not care at all. 



[27] 



CANDLES THAT BURN 



"WHEN YOU HAD BEEN DEAD" 

When you had been dead a week 

I entered a shining shop, 

And there in a neat pink row 

Lay little dolls made of soap. 

And I thought, "I will take one home. 

How she will laugh to see it ! 

How it will bob in her bath 

And slip through her dripping fingers !" 

Only a moment I smiled. 

Only a moment I dreamed it. 

Then my heart stood still with pain 

And I went out into the darkness. 



[28] 



TO ROSE 



TO ROSE 

They told me the one who died would be always near me, 
That I had one child who could never grow old and 
sad; 

I should always have your beautiful face to cheer me, 
Your voice to make me glad. 

Oh, I have prayed till my heart was weary with praying. 
Hoping, if only in dreams, to feel you near. 

To find the truth in what they were always saying — 
That you would be with me, dear. 

Were they only trying to help me face the morrow? 

Or did they really believe the tilings they said? 
The only dream I have had of you brought hut sorrow: 

I dreamed that you were not dead. 



[29] 



CANDLES THAT BURN 



OLIM MEMINISSE JUVABIT 

Sometime it may be pleasing to remember 

The curls about your brow, 
To talk about your eyes, your smile, your dearness. 

But it is anguish now. 

Often I feel that I must speak and tell them 

Of all your golden ways, 
How all the words you ever spoke were happy, 

Joy-filled your laughing days. 

But though I miss you every empty moment 

Of all my longing years, 
How can I speak about your thrilling beauty 

When all my thoughts are tears.'' 

Sometime it may be pleasing to remember 

The curls about your brow, 
The way you turned your head, your hands, your 
laughter, 

But oh, not now, not now ! 



[30] 



HAUNTED 



HAUNTED 

Your dying lips were proud and sweet 
And when you turned your head away 
Against the pillow where you lay 
My heart was broken at your feet. 

quivering lips that would be gay, 
What was it that you tried to say? 
There was a thing you would have said, 
There was a word you never spoke ; 

It rose between us by your bed. 
There came a look of hurt surprise 
In your unfathomable eyes. 
And then it was that my heart broke. 

So now wherever I may turn 

1 see your wistful, following eyes; 
I see that anguished question burn 
On lips that laugh in Paradise. 

If I had been in your dear place 
You never would have failed me so ! 
You always read upon my face 

[31] 



CANDLES THAT BURN 



Thoughts that myself could scarcely know. 
Oh, how I scorned my fettered soul 
Because it could not leap the space 
That held me from your lovely goal ! 

How many a trivial little word 
And things j^ou said to me apart, 
Strange sayings no one else has heard, 
I keep safe buried in my heart. 
But the last thing you would have said, 
I shall not know it : you are dead. 



[32] 



THE WINDY NIGHT 



THE WINDY NIGHT 

You say you love to hear the wind 
Like brazen trumpets in the night; 

That all its martial panoply 

Wakes in your soul a wild delight. 

You like to hear upon the roof 
The silver lances of the rain. 

And see the birches' cavalry 

Go sweeping past the window-pane : 

To see tall chestnuts fall like towers, 
While all our happy house is still, 

And like a charge with bayonets 
The cedar trees rush up the hill. 

But I lie trembling in the night, 
As dark and wild as night can be. 

Remembering songs that you have made 
Till through the night you come to me. 



[33] 



CANDLES THAT BURN 



I SHALL NOT BE AFRAID 

I shall not be afraid any more. 

Either by night or day ; 
What would it profit me to be afraid 

With you away? 

Now I am brave. In the dark night alone 

All through the house I go, 
Locking the doors and making windows fast 

When sharp winds blow. 

For there is only sorrow in my heart ; 

There is no room for fear. 
But how I wish I were afraid again, 

My dear, my dear! 



[34] 



IN SPRING 



IN SPRING 

I do not know which is worse when you are away: 
Long grey days with the lisping sound of the rain 

And then when the lilac dusk is beginning to fall 
The thought that perhaps you may never come back 
again ; 

Or days when the world is a shimmer of blue and gold, 
Sparkling newly all in the dear spring weather, 

When with a heart that is torn apart by pain 
I walk alone in ways that we went together. 



[35] 



CANDLES THAT BURN 



HIGH HEART 

The sea that I watch from my window 

Is grey and white; 
I see it toss in the darkness 

All the night. 
My soul swoops down to sorrow 

As the sea-gulls dip, 
And all my love flies after 

Your lonely ship. 

Yet I am not despairing 

Though we must part, 
Nothing can be too bitter 

For my high heart. 
All in the dreary midnight, 

Watching the flying foam, 
I wait for the golden morning 

When you come home. 



[36] 



CHRISTMAS 



CHRISTMAS 

"And shall you have a Tree," they say, 
"Now one is dead and one away?" 

Oh, I shall have a Christmas Tree! 
Brighter than ever it shaU be; 
Dressed out with coloured lights to make 
The room all glorious for your sake. 
And under the Tree a Chnd shall sleep 
Near shepherds watching meir wooden sheep. 
Threads of silver and nets of gold, 
Scarlet bubbles the Tree shall hold. 
And little glaste bells that tinkle clear. 
I shall trim it alone but feel you near. 

And when Christmas Day is almost done, 
When they all grow sleepy one by one, 
When Kenton's books have all been read. 
When Deborah's climbing the stairs to bed, 

I shaU sit alone by the fire and see 
Ghosts of you both come close to me. 
For the dead and the absent always stay 
With the one they love on Christmas Day. 

[37] 



CANDLES THAT BUEN 



THE GARDEN CHILD 

Once in my childhood I knew an old garden, 

Shut in by grey pickets and crowded with grass ; 

Old flowers grew in it, clove pinks and white lilies, 
And moss roses choked up the path with their mass. 

It lay all alone in the curve of a river 

Where little grey boats floated by on the tide ; 

No dwelling was near it, no pathway led to it, 
And harsh river-grasses crept up on each side. 

Speedwell and lavender, small brown chrysanthemums. 
Mixed in great tangles where myrtle ran wild. 

And sweetly mysterious, safe though unguarded, 
Lay hid in a corner the grave of a child. 

Often I wondered if that child had played there, 
Played there as I, twining wreaths for my hair. 

When the pickets were white and the flowers were tended 
And no little grave held its mystery' there. 

Who were the people who once had lived near there 
Making the wilderness bloom like a rose, 

Then left like a dream leaving nothing behind them 
But the grave of a child in a small garden-close? 

[38] 



THE LOST FOREST 



THE LOST FOREST 

I walked with my mother 
Where the tall trees grow, 

And she showed me tiny tables 
Where the elves sit in a row, 

And the bells that ring to call them 
When the night winds blow. 

There were small frosted toadstools, 

And little cups of wine. 
And velvet banks to rest on 

Where moss grew thick and fine, 
And a smooth brown ring for dancing 

Underneath a pine. 

But now when I go walking 

All the way is clear; 
The little bells are silent 

And the moss grown sere, 
And I know that in the moonlight 

Not an elf comes near. 

[39] 



CANDLES THAT BURN 



COW SONG 

Klang! Kling! the cow-bells ring 
As the cows come home at night. 

Slowly they pass over the grass, 
Black and brown and white. 

Sleepy and slow each one will go 
With daisies and clover in her; 

At the milking stall she'll give them all 
As milk for Kenton's dinner. 



[40] 



REMEMBRANCE 



REMEMBRANCE 

I went back to a place I knew 

When I was very, very small ; 
The same old yellow roses grew 

Against the same old wall. 

Each thing I knew was in its place; 

The well, the white stones by the road, 
The box-hedge with its cobweb lace, 

And a small spotted toad. 

And yet the place seemed changed and still ; 

The house itself had shrunk, I know. 
And then my eyes began to fill — 

For I had always loved it so ! 



[41] 



CANDLES THAT BURN 



FLOWER DANCERS 

To-day I played with flowers, 
The yellow, yellow daisies. 
The rainbow morning-glories 

And lilies pale and grand. 
They held their dainty skirts out, 
They bowed among the grasses, 
And danced a tilting minuet 

Shadowy hand in hand. 



im 



MORNING-GLORIES 



MORNING-GLORIES 

When I was small I used to play 
In an old garden bright with flowers. 

I often used to run away 

From home, and play in there for hours. 

There were two ladies who lived there, 
Dressed all in black with creamy laces. 

They had soft snowy pufFs of hair 
And wrinkled, pleasant, dim old faces. 

They had such kind and pretty ways ! 

They used to tell me lovely stories, 
And let me on warm sunny days 

Blow bubbles with great morning-glories. 

I wonder if they know how much 
I think of them now I am older. 

I often seem to feel the touch 

Of soft old hands upon my shoulder. 



[43] 



CANDLES THAT BURN 



HELL-COUNTRY 

Brown hill I have left behind, 
Why do you haunt me so? 

You never were warm and kind 
And I was glad to go. 

Is it because there lies, 

Up in your cold brown breast, 
One who brought j oy to my eyes 

And to my heart brought rest? 

Never again shall I see 

The flash in her answering eye. 
Never again shall the heart in me 

Stir as she passes by. 

Hill, you are proud and cold, 
Haughty and high your face ; 

Is it, O hill, because you hold 
Her in your grim embrace? 



[44] 



COMPENSATION 



COMPENSATION 

I have two children: one who came 

When on my head 
Life shed its joys without a thought 

Of pain or dread ; 
And one when ashes of despair 

Blackened my bread. 

My child of joy has sombre eyes 

Like Mimer's well; 
Surely the secrets of the world 

Those lips could tell; 
And wisdom on his infant soul 

Untimely fell. 

My child of woe has laughing eyes 

Like dancing light; 
A leaping flame of innocence 

Has burned her white ; 
And in her face I dare not look, 

It is so bright. 

[45] 



CANDLES THAT BURN 



My little pagan's life should hold 

Joy without taint; 
Under the gleaming sword of pain 

His soul might faint: 
Not aU the powers of Hell could daunt 

My happy saint! 



[46] 



IN A HALL BEDROOM 



IN A HALL BEDROOM 

"In the long border on the right 

I shall plant larkspur first," she thinks. 
"Peonies and chrysanthemums 

And then sweet-scented maiden pinks. 

"The border on the left shall hold 
Nothing but masses of white phlox. 
Forget-me-nots shall edge this one, 
The one across be edged with box. 

*'The sun-dial in the centre stands. 

There morning-glories bright shall twine. 
And in the strip at either end 

Shall grow great clumps of columbine. 

"There is no garden in the world 

So beautiful as mine," she dreams. 
Rising, she walks the little space 

To where her narrow window gleams. 

[47] 



CANDLES THAT BURN 



She gazes through the dingy pane 
To where the street is noisy still, 

And tends with pitiable care 
A tulip on the window-sill. 



[48] 



TO A YOUNG AVIATOR 



TO A YOUNG AVIATOR 

When you go up to die 

Some not far distant day, 
I wonder will you try 
To tear your mask away, 
And look life in the eyes 
For once without disguise? 

Behind your mask may hide 

What treacherous, covered fires ! 
What hidden, torturing pride! 
What sorrows, what desires! 
Whatever there may be 
There will be none to see. 

Yet I think when you meet 

Death coming through the skies, 
Calmly his face you'll greet. 
Coldly, without surprise ; 
Then die without a moan, 
Still masked although alone. 

[49] 



CANDLES THAT BURN 



THE MASQUERADER 

You were no more to me than many others, 
I never thought you beautiful or bright, 

And yet I find your memory returning 
Many a night. 

Again I hear your strange, heart-broken laughter, 
Laughter more pitiful than any tears ; 

Again I see your gallant head uplifted 
Through heavy years. 

You held so tight the fragile toy you wanted, 
And when it broke you would not let it go ; 

You would not let us guess your heart broke with it- 
You played you did not know. 

Now you are gone we see how well you suffered. 
We see the valiant way you struggled on. 

Can you forgive our foolish condescension, 
Now you are gone? 



[50] 



THE MORNING SHADOW 



THE MORNING SHADOW 

I who have never known sorrow 

Wait for it morning and evening; 

For the footstep of grief on my threshold, 

The drip of tears on my hearthstone, 

The pitiless hours of lonely, uncomforted woe. 

Never a life without sorrow! 
But, oh, when will mine be upon me? 
When will the years seem long 
That now slip happily by me? 
The light of the skies be dimmed 
To eyes that are weary with weeping? 



[61] 



CANDLES THAT BURN 



AFTER GRIEVING 

When I was young I was so sad! 

I was so sad! I did not know 
Why any living thing was glad 

Vhen one must some day sorrow so. 
But now that grief has come to me 
My heart is like a bird set free. 

I always knew that it would come ; 

I always felt it waiting there: 
Its shadow kept my glad voice dumb 
And crushed my gay soul with despair. 
But now that I have lived with grief 
I feel an exquisite relief. 

Athletes who know their proven strength, 
Ships that have shamed the hurricane: 
These are ray brothers, and at length 
I shall come back to joy again. 
However hard my life may be 
I know it shall not conquer me. 

[52] 



SPEING SORROW 



SPRING SORROW 

Sorrow to see the spring! 
Why do we smile when she wakes the rose? 
For sleep is sweeter as every one knows, 

And cruel the wakening. 

Hark to a weary sound! 
It is the sap that swells like tears 
In the heart of trees that are grey with years, 

And falls like tears to the ground. 

Futile the brave display, 
The pitiful challenge of bud and leaf, 
The proud pretence that is yet so brief 

And dies, like spring, in a day. 

Sorrow to see the spring! 
Why are we glad at the birth of the rose.? 
For death is better as every one knows, 

And life is a bitter thing. 



[53] 



CANDLES THAT BURN 



AGE INVADING 

I shall not run upstairs again, 

And oh, the foolish grief I feel! 
I must go carefully or pain 

Will thrust me through with its bright steel. 

I never thought that I should care 
When the first shadow fell on rae. 

I planned lace caps for my white hair 
And hoped to grow old gracefully. 

I thought that when Age came I'd stand 
(If Age should really come at all!) 

And greet him with extended hand 
As my last partner at a ball. 

But now when you with easy grace 

Run up ahead or wait for me. 
Such bitterness is in my face 

I turn my head lest you should see. 



[54] 



PORTRAIT OF AN OLD LADY 



PORTRAIT OF AN OLD LADY 

Early one morning- as I went a-walking 
I met an old lady so stately and tall, 

The red of her cheeks gave a quiver of pleasure 
Like the sight of red hollyhocks by a grey wall. 

Fragrance of lavender clung to her, telling 
Of linen piled high on immaculate shelves ; 

You could fancy her tending her garden or strolling 
Among the proud roses that grow by themselves. 

When I am sorrowful, dreading the future, 
Dreaming of days when my hair shall be grey, 

It cheers me to think of that lovely old lady, 
Lavender-haunted and hollyhock-gay. 



[55] 



CANDLES THAT BURN 



TO TWO LITTLE SISTERS OF THE POOR 

Sweet and humble and gladly poor, 
The Grace of God came in at my door. 

Sorrow and death were mine that day, 
But the Grace of God came in to stay ; 

The Grace of God that spread its wings 
Over all sad and pitiful things. 

Sorrow turned to the touch of God, 
Death became but His welcoming nod. 

Grey-eyed, comforting, strong and brave, 
You came to ask but instead you gave. 

Quickly you came and went, you two. 
But the Grace of God stayed after you. 



[56] 



MOUNTAINS 



MOUNTAINS 

Over the green and level land 

My sad eyes wander without hope ; 

Here no rejoicing mountains stand, 
No strong and friendly slope. 

But ever when I close my eyes 

Tall mountains rear their stately forms. 
Against the sky I watch them rise, 

Serene in calm or storms. 



One in the distance rises blue, 

Haloed by morning's earliest beams. 

This was the peak my childhood knew. 
About her clung my dreams. 

Over her pallor fell the snow, 

The hot sun scorched her fertile breast. 
But in the summer lightning's glow 

I always loved her best. 

[S7] 



CANDLES THAT BURN 



She bowed her purple head in pain 

As clouds rolled up from threatening space, 

And let a veil of silver rain 

Slip down across her weeping face. 



[58] 



TO A LADY COMPLIMENTING 



TO A LADY COMPLIMENTING 

When I met you an hour ago 
My heart was heavy and chill; 

Now, from your word of praise, 
It is glowing still. 

Ah, vajdtas vanitatum! 

What the Preacher said was true! 
I always thought my eyes were grey 

But now I know they are blue. 



[59] 



CANDLES THAT BURN 



GREEN GRAVEL 

Fidelia goes sadly and sits in the door; 
She spins or she stares at the white sanded floor. 
She has never a visitor all the day long, 
And she sings very softly this foolish old song: 

"Green Gravel, Green Gravel, your grass is so green! 
The sweetest, the sweetest that ever was seen! 
Fidelia, Fidelia, your sweetheart is dead; 
He sent you this letter to turn hack your head.^* 

But when it is evening she wanders away 
And watches the children who come out to play. 
The children are happy, they dance in a ring, 
And over and over they merrily sing: 

** Green Gravel, Green Gravel, your grass is so green! 
The sweetest, the sweetest that ever was seen!" 
She wants to sing with them and join in their fun 
But when she comes near them away they all run. 

[60] 



GREEN GRAVEL 



So late in the evening she dances alone 

And sings rather drearily round a white stone : 

"Fidelia, Fidelia, your sweetJieart is dead; 

He sent you this letter to turn back your head" 



[61] 



CANDLES THAT BURN 



THE WHITE MOTH 

Where are you flying, White Moth, to-night, 

Bearing a pale little soul away, 
A sad little soul that quivers with fright 

As the moonbeams over your frail wings play? 

Peace! I conjure you, fly no more, 
Come no nearer the beckoning flame. 

Wan little soul from an unknown shore, 
Not by chance to my light you came. 

Somewhere I have known your silver wings. 

Somewhere I have thrilled to your lonely flight. 

I am sad with the ache of forgotten things ; 
Leave me alone in peace to-night. 



[62] 



HONEY-WITCH 



HONEY-WITCH 

Gay Peter rode by the grey tower 

And a face leaned laughing down, 
With hair that gleamed from a gold net 

And eyes of angel-brown. 
*'She is fair," he said as he saw her, 

"Tender and good and gay. 
So pure that I am all unworthy," 

And sighing he rode away. 

Gay Peter married a good maid 

Because of her bold blue eyes. 
But ever he dreamed of the lady 

Pure as the frosty skies. 
Everywhere he wandered 

He thought of a heart-shaped face 
Set like a star in a dark sky 

As his soul's abiding place. 

But up in her tower the lady 

Bit her honey-coloured hands and cried : 
"Shall I never get out of the grey tower? 

Shall I never get out?" she sighed. 

[63] 



CANDLES THAT BURN 



But no one guessed who passed there 
That her goodness all was lies, 

That she had the heart of a honey-witch 
Behind her angel eyes. 



[64] 



TO A SILLY POOR SOUL 



TO A SILLY POOR SOUL 

"If ever thou gavest meat or drink, 
Every night e and alle; 
The fire shall never make thee shrink, 
And Christe receive thy saule." 

For meat and drink that you have given 
God will find you a place in Heaven. 

For the kind words that you have spoken 
God will not let your soul be broken. 

Bread on the waters you have cast 
And God will save your soul at last. 

Wherever you go — and the world is wide — 
My prayers shall be ever at your side. 

For I, perverse and foolish, too. 

Know the dark ways your soul went through. 

You who were given the greatest grace 
Cast it away with a tortured face. 

[65] 



CANDLES THAT BURN 



But if I see the good in you 

Will God in His mercy not see it, too? 

Will God not make you clean and whole 
And Christ receive your silly poor soul? 



[66] 



MOONLIGHT 



MOONLIGHT 

The moon reached in cold hands across the sill 

And touched me as I lay sleeping; 
And in my sleep I thought of sorrowful things : 

I wakened, and I lay weeping. 

I could hear on the beach below the small waves break 

And fall on the silver shingle, 
And the sound of a footstep passing in the street 

Where lamplight and moonlight mingle. 

And I said : "All day I can turn my face to the sun 

And lead my thoughts to laughter; 
But I hope in my heart that I never shall sleep again 

Because of the pain thereafter." 

The moon's pale fingers wandered across my face 
And the arm where my hot cheek rested, 

And because of the tears in my eyes I could not see 
Where the black waves rocked moon-crested. 



[67] 



CANDLES THAT BURN 



MY MIRROR 

There is a mirror in my room 
Less like a mirror than a tomb, 
There are so many ghosts that pass 
Across the surface of the glass. 

When in the morning I arise 
With circles round my tired eyes, 
Seeking the glass to brush my hair 
My mother's mother meets me there. 

If in the middle of the day 
I happen to go by that way, 
I see a smile I used to know — 
My mother, twenty years ago. 

But when I rise by candlelight 
To feed my baby in the night, 
Then whitely in the glass I see 
My dead child's face look out at me. 



[68] 



